


a fate worse than dying

by always_an_anxious_mess



Category: Minecraft - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (at least in Tommy’s case), (the voices are auditory hallucinations), Dissociation, Gen, Good Friend Tubbo (Video Blogging RPF), Hallucinations, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Imprisonment, Intrusive Thoughts, Manipulation, Needles, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sick Character, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, TommyInnit Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), auditory hallucinations, mental breakdowns, this is a dark one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:33:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29649303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_an_anxious_mess/pseuds/always_an_anxious_mess
Summary: Tommy’s been stuck in the prison with Dream for... who knows how long at this point. Certainly not him.He’s going to go insane in here. He’s going to go insane in here.Tommy doesn’t want to die.(Title from Wilbur Soot’s Jubilee Line)(This is a rather dark fic, please read the tags and beginning notes for trigger warnings. Stay safe <3)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 551
Collections: Completed stories I've read, mcyt favorites





	a fate worse than dying

**Author's Note:**

> **tw// Vomit mentions, intrusive thoughts, suicidal thoughts, hallucinations, burning, mention of past child abuse, passing out, sleep deprivation, starvation**
> 
> lmk if i missed anything

Tommy’s going to go insane in here.

He has no idea how long it’s been since he was trapped in the inescapable prison with Dream. Dream, who had manipulated him, beaten him.

Nononono. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about that.

He hasn’t slept, terrified that the moment he closes his eyes that Dream will attack him, kill him as revenge of locking him in this prison cell and taking his first two lives.

Tommy didn’t want to die.

_I’m going insane in here. I’m going insane in here. I’m going insane in here._

The hallucinations were getting worse. Twice he had thought he’d seen the lava was draining and the bridge coming to save him. Twice he had nearly pitched himself into the curtain of molten rock, only able to save himself last minute when he felt the heat burning his face and smelling the sparks singing his clothes.

He’d seen Dream lunge for him and try to kill him more than once. But right as he screamed and threw his hands up in front of his face to protect his head, only to blink and find that Dream was across the room, staring at him weirdly.

He was hearing things too, voices and noises that didn’t make sense. Some were familiar, some were not. Sometimes there were hundreds of thousands of them screaming in his ears, sometimes there was just one.

On the occasion that there was just one, it was often a familiar voice. Someone he knew. Sam and Tubbo were the ones who showed up the most. Every now and then it was Phil, or Techno, or Wilbur. He had heard Niki once, Puffy three times, Ranboo more than once.

He was going to go insane in here.

Tommy sat by the lava, staring at the shifting colors of orange and gold, praying for the telltale noise of it receding.

He was exhausted, and he kept almost passing out. His head would dip down and his eyes would close, but he’d force himself to snap out of it and stay awake.

As time passed, and it grew harder and harder to stay awake, he looked to the lava for a solution.

He would sit uncomfortably close, close enough for the heat radiating from the molten rock to roasted the skin on his hands and face, to cause his hair to smolder and threatening to set his clothes alight from stray sparks. He would sit there until the exhaustion snapped away, replaced by adrenaline, and then shift backwards enough so he wasn’t being burned anymore.

But the moment that he felt his eyelids start to droop, he would scoot forward until the heat of the lava seared his skin.

The pain gave him something to focus on, something other than the fact that he was stuck here. He was stuck here with Dream. He was stuck here. He was stuck here. he was stuck here. He was stuck here. He was stuck here. He was stuck here. He was stuck here.

Best not to think about that.

For the sake of his own sanity.

He’s going to go insane. He’s going to go insane. He’s going to go insane. He’s going to go insane.

Dream still spoke to him, he was pretty sure. It was hard to tell considering he occasionally heard hundreds of thousands of voices screaming in his head. Dream was probably still trying to manipulate him, bring him onto his side, like he always did every time Tommy came to visit.

Tommy wasn’t going to fall for it though. He refused. And if he had to shove his fingers into his own ears so hard that he damaged his eardrums in order to make sure of that, he would.

Man, Tommy hated those thoughts.

The ones that told him to swim through the lava to escape this cell. The ones that told him to gouge out his own eyeballs so he would stop having to see the hallucinations. The ones that curiously wondered that if he peeled off his fingernails the pain would be enough to keep him awake until Sam came to get him.

Sam’s not coming to get him.

Sam’s coming to get him.

Sam’s not coming to get him.

Sam’s coming to get him.

Sam’s not coming.

Sam is coming.

He’s not.

He is.

He’s not.

He will.

Tommy’s going to go insane in here.

How much longer would it be? He had no idea. He had no clue how long it had been, how much time he still had to go. It was impossible to tell what time it was down here, in an obsidian box encased in lava inside of a blackstone and obsidian impenetrable prison.

Why did Dream have to burn that clock?

Tommy’s stomach was growling weakly. He ignored it. Dream had the food, and Tommy refused to beg Dream of all people for anything. Not anymore. Even if it meant starving to death in this damn hole.

His mouth was dry, his eyes refused to moisten. He would occasionally hobble towards the water in the cell and drink it, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten up to do so. Dream had always given him a wide berth when he moved away from the lava, but with that damn mask on, Tommy couldn’t tell you why.

He didn’t have the strength to go get water anyhow. Not anymore.

His breathing seemed all wrong, coming in short, quick huffs, just shy of hyperventilatng. No matter how much he inhaled, there was never enough oxygen.

His head throbbed, his stomach churned, every inch of his body ached, and his face and arms stung as if he’d gotten a particularly bad sunburn.

He couldn’t have gotten sunburned, though. There was no sun, not down here. There was no sun, no moon, no stars, no grass, no fresh air, no oceans, no trees, no flowers, no clouds, no dirt, no animals, nothing. Just him, Dream, obsidian, and the lava.

The lava was probably what was burning him, now that he thought about it.

But he needed it to burn him. If it didn’t burn him, then he would fall asleep. If he fell asleep, he would die.

Tommy refused to die.

He’s going to go insane.

It’s inevitable, really.

Was this Dream’s plan? Had this been Dream’s plan all along? Not to manipulate him and beat him again, but to make him go insane in this prison cell? If it was, kudos to him, because it was working.

He was stuck.

There wasn’t any way to get out. Tommy was forced to wait, unable to get out on his own. He was at the mercy of Dream, of Sam, of whoever else had access to the prison and could set him free.

He wanted out.

Tommy’s throat was sore from all the screaming he’d done earlier, screaming for Sam, for anyone to come and get him out of here. But no one came, no one listened, no one was there to hear him anyways.

He’s going to die in here.

Whether by Dream himself, by starvation, by thirst, it didn’t matter. He was going to die in here, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Tommy couldn’t do a single thing but accept his fate, accept his death. He leaned against the obsidian wall, legs long having fallen asleep underneath him, and continued to stare at the swirling mass of lava that was between him and freedom.

**TOMMY NO. GET OUT TOMMY. GO. NONONONNONONO. PUNT DREAM. GET OUT. GO TOMMY. SAM. SAM. SAM’S HERE. FINALLY. GET HIM SAM. GO ON SAM. SAM COME ON. TUBBO’S PISSED. TUBBO. TUBBO’S HERE.**

The obsidian box that he was in jerked slightly, but he barely noticed. The lava was still falling, and Tommy’s head was still filled with thousands of practically incomprehensible voices, drowning out everything else.

**SAM COME ON. MOVE FASTER. TOMMY GET UP. GET UP. GO TOMMY. GO. YOU CAN GO. TUBBO BEAT HIS ASS. GET HIM TUBBO. TOMMY GET UP. GO.**

What did they mean, go? The lava was still there, and Tommy wasn’t about to throw himself into it. He didn’t have the strength to anyway.

Some time passed, the voices still filling his ears with nonsense and meaningless, false words. Tubbo wasn’t here. Sam wasn’t here. If they were here, the lava would be down. They would be getting him out, not leaving him here.

Then, an arm appeared through the lava.

It startled him enough to make him lift his head, eyes widening as he stared at the arm. Following the arm came a pair of legs, a head, a torso.

A whole person was coming through the lava, completely unburnt.

What?

The lava flickered once, twice, shimmering and glittering brighter for a moment before it disappeared completely, as if it was never there in the first place.

What?

The lava... was another hallucination? But how? It’d been real just a few moments ago, it had to be. It felt like it was cooking him alive. But now it’s not?

Unless this was the hallucination.

It had to be.

But Tubbo was right there. Tubbo was standing there, eyes full of worry and mouth moving a mile a minute, extending a hand down to him for him to pick up.

No. No, no, no, no no no nononononononnonononononononononono! Tubbo wasn’t there, he wasn’t there. He couldn’t be there.

Tommy couldn’t do anything but stare at the fake-Tubbo dumbly, taking shuddering breaths as his heart started to race. Why couldn’t the hallucinations just leave him alone?!

**TOMMY YOU DUMBASS. HE’S REAL TOMMY. TUBBO’S THERE. TUBBO POG. TUBBO TO THE RESCUE! TOMMY GO. GO WITH TUBBO. HE’S REAL. GO WITH HIM.**

Please, please shut up.

Tommy flinched as the hallucination, the fake-Tubbo, crouched down and reached for him, wanting to close his eyes and shy away, but afraid he’d fall asleep if he did so.

Hands gripped his shirt. Real, solid, soft hands. Sapphire blue eyes gazed at him with real wet tears that plopped onto Tommy’s shirt. Real breath wafted over Tommy’s face.

Oh fuck.

His breath hitched, and he forced his own hand to come up and grab Tubbo’s forearm. Tubbo’s forearm that was warm, and solid, and _real_.

“You’re real,” he croaked, his throat raw and mouth parched. It was the first thing he was able to hear over the voices, which were slowly going silent.

Tubbo looked crushed, wilting at those two little words. “Of course I’m real,” the brunette sounded heartbroken, on the verge of sobbing, but with an lacing of anger underneath his tone.

“Oh so _that’s_ why he was acting like that,” Dream’s voice startled Tommy, making him jerk. “He’s been hallucinating, then. I figured.”

Tubbo jerked into a standing position, releasing Tommy as rage flared in his eyes. “Shut the _fuck_ up,” Tubbo snapped, bristling. “I know you had something to do with this, and you’re lucky I don’t hop this damn netherite barrier and _beat_ your last life out of you.”

“You can believe what you want,” Dream replied with a shrug. “I haven’t touched him.”

“You didn’t have to,” Tubbo spat, before taking a deep breath and returning to Tommy. “Let’s get out of here, big man,” he whispered, anger gone from his voice and eyes. “C’mon.”

Tommy tried, he really did. He tried to get his legs underneath him, he tried to push himself to his feet, but it didn’t work. His legs didn’t respond correctly, and the moment he took his weight off the obsidian wall, the room spun.

“It’s okay, here, I got you,” Tubbo seemed to have noticed how much Tommy was struggling, bending down and hauling the blonde to his feet by his armpits.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Tommy hissed, immediately latching onto Tubbo for balance as the room spun. His legs were trembling terribly, almost too much so to hold himself upright. His fingertips and toes felt cold, and his vision was blurring, with spots dancing across it. His ears started to ring.

“It’s okay, big man,” Tubbo murmured, his voice sounding muffled and far away. “Let’s get you out of here. I’ll help, it’s alright. Just one foot in front of the other. Right here, step there, yeah?”

Tommy clung to Tubbo for dear life, slowly shuffling to the side as he was guided in a particular direction that he could barely even _see_. He was trusting Tubbo here, Tubbo who could still be a hallucination—

No, he could feel him. Tubbo was solid, warm, and real. Tubbo was real.

Tommy pitched forward, suddenly, unable to stop himself as his horrible balance nearly sent him sprawling.

“Woah woah woah,” Tubbo grabbed him and steadied him, shifting them both until Tommy was leaning his entire weight onto the brunette. “Just wait until we get across, then you can sit down, have some water. It’ll be okay, breathe.”

Tommy huffed, fingers digging into Tubbo’s upper arms as he fought to keep himself balanced. The adrenaline that had been constantly beating in his veins for so long was fading, and it was becoming apparently clear that he could not hold himself upright without it.

His eyes kept fighting to slip closed, because Dream was gone and he was with _Tubbo_. Tubbo was _safe_. His body begged for sleep, begged to rest.

The gentle rocking motion beneath his feet was not helping, and the fact that he was being held wasn’t helping either.

Sleep was pulling at his limbs, beckoning him close. Without the lava to burn him until he woke up, he couldn’t fight it off. He didn’t even want to fight it off.

He was free. He was out. He was free he was free he was free he was free he was free hewasfreehewasfreehewasfreehewasfree—

Slowly, the rocking stopped, and there was a soft clang. He was guided forward unsteadily, hearing the groaning of metal and the bubbling of lava before there was a second pair of hands on him.

“I’m sorry,” Sam’s familiar voice sounded close, and full of tears. “Tommy I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.”

That was all it took.

Despite how mad Tommy wanted to be at Sam for leaving him in the cell, his body didn’t care. It heard Sam’s voice, it heard Tubbo’s voice, it felt Tubbo holding him, and the last of the adrenaline faded.

He tried to fight it. He did. But he’d been fighting it for so long, and he was exhausted. Sam and Tubbo were here, maybe he could just rest his eyes for a moment?

Tommy’s eyes fluttered shut, and he took a deep breath, unconsciously leaning more on Tubbo. He heard the brunette grunt slightly.

“Woah there... Sam, help,” Tubbo shifted Tommy in his arms. “He’s heavy. This isn’t over, I’ve got a lot more to say to you, but he’s more important right now.”

“Agreed.”

Tommy felt himself be moved, away from Tubbo and onto someone else, most likely Sam.

The netherite armor Sam was wearing dug into his chest as the creeper hybrid held the teen up, exhaling shakily.

The movement didn’t help Tommy peel his eyes open again. If anything, it only made his job harder, because now he knew that Sam’s voice wasn’t a hallucination, he was real too.

His legs damn near gave out on him as he sank into Sam’s hold, clutching the creeper hybrid with a death grip. A dark wave was surging up behind his eyes, threatening to drown him, and Tommy couldn’t do a single thing about it.

He took one deep breath, two deep breaths, before his legs gave out on him completely. The wave crashed down on him, dragging him down before he could even properly react.

Just like that, he was out.

* * *

Tommy peeled his eyes open.

The first thing he noticed was that he was laying on and was covered in things that were very soft.

The second thing he noticed is that he was not surrounded by obsidian, rather, he was in a room made of wood.

The third thing he noticed was that he had been asleep.

He bolted upright, his heart already starting to race and his breathing quickening. Tommy scrabbled at his shirt, and neck, searching for wounds that... weren’t there.

Oh fuck, wait.

The room was spinning, his head was cloudy, and he felt way, way too hot.

His stomach lurched dangerously, and Tommy had just enough awareness to lean over the bed he was laying in and dry heave onto the floor beneath him.

There wasn’t anything in his stomach, so he just retched onto the floor, stomach turning, without a thing coming up at all. Not even bile made it’s way past his lips, just bubbling in his throat for a moment before he swallowed it down.

Instead of trying to sit up again, he let his head fall back onto the pillow, blinking blearily up at the ceiling.

His eyes felt sticky and crusty, as if he’d been asleep for a long time. His hands and arms were mostly wrapped in bandages, and his face was bandaged in spots too, a cool cream spread underneath the cloth that covered his skin, soothing the irritation there.

Tommy was acutely aware of a needle in his left forearm, moving when he did.

A quick glance to his left indeed revealed a needle stuck in and taped to the inside of his forearm, connected to a tube that contained a glimmering pink liquid that led to a clear bag hanging above him, filled with the same liquid.

Regeneration.

Tommy had only had in an I.V. in him one other time, back when he had been hit by a particularly nasty variant of the flu back when he was eight. Phil had been gone, as he usually was, and Wilbur had panicked, unsure of how to use their vast amount of medical supplies. He’d gotten the town doctor, who stuck him with an I.V. of regen and told Wilbur to wait it out after showing the then-teenager how to change the back when it got low.

Sure enough, less than a week later, he was back on his feet and better than ever.

Considering that Tommy felt like absolute shit at the moment, he was willing to bet that it had not, in fact, been a week.

He wanted to go back to sleep, his body _demanded_ he go back to sleep.

Right as he was about to slip his eyes closed, the door to the room he was in opened, and in stepped Tubbo, peeking his head inside with a concerned look on his face.

Tommy locked eyes with the brunette, watching as Tubbo lit up once he saw the blonde was awake.

“You’re up,” Tubbo gave him a wobbly smile, approaching the bed cautiously. “Had us worried there for a while.”

The younger teen didn’t say a word, watching Tubbo warily. Hallucination? Not-hallucination? Hallucination?

As if reading his thoughts, the older boy reached forward and gently rested a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “I’m real,” Tubbo promised.

The blonde audibly sighed with relief, letting out a tension he hadn’t realized he had.

That’s all he wanted to know. Because if Tubbo was here, and he was real, then Tommy was very well and truly out of the prison cell.

He wouldn’t ever be going back, that’s for sure, not... not after everything.

He was out of there.

He was free.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @Rose12610  
> Tumblr: @alwaysananxiousmess
> 
> I’m very tired take my midnight brainrot :thumbs_up:


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